At the conference I was attending there was a girl I recognized from a previous conference and we got to chatting. Mid-talk she asked me how old I was, quickly explaining that that's not something she normally asks. It's just that at the big conference we attended in April she was surrounded by a bunch of male colleagues in the 20-30 age bracket. These young guys had apparently referred to me as "the finest girl at the conference" (yup, that's a quote) and fought about who should "get me", as in "she's mine", "no, she's mine!". Flattering, of course, but I couldn't help but laugh and mention the irony of the whole situation. My colleague was of course laughing her ass off as I told this girl that the ironic thing is that I'm a big lesbo, so they could fight all they wanted but they had nothing to collect with me. First her jaw dropped and then she lit up in a smile and did a little victory gesture, making it known that she couldn't wait to tell her colleagues that the chick they were checking out was a dyke and that she had a bigger chance of scoring with me than they did.
There was no scoring what so ever at the conference though. Sadly.
2 comments:
Well, at least you are trying to date. I am too--it's an adventure, especially at my age (45). Still, having gained a keen appreciation of middle-aged women, I'm happily hunting and making time for coffee dates. I've even had a pleasant surprise or two.
Good for you! You think there's hope for me too then? I'm still searching for my pleasant surprises. :)
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